Inu Yasha Themes
by Milareppa
Summary: Short unrelated stories about various major and/or minor characters within the manga or anime. Chapter 10: Hakudoushi thought he had achieved mastery in the art of cunning. He was wrong.
1. Seasons of the Heart

**Setting:** Manga Canon**  
Rating: K  
Pre-requisites:** Chapters 183, 519.**  
Characters: **Bokusenou**  
Genre: **General  
**Author's Note:** This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Tree" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.

**Summary: **Toutousai must have obtained the materials for Bakusaiga's sheath from somewhere...

* * *

**Seasons of the Heart.**

Can the immovable be moved?

I once made a promise: three branches for three sheaths. Two were resolved quickly enough. However, the third would be made in spring, after the thawing of an unending winter's ice.

The year I was born, the earth shook from the honour of bearing the weight of the divine warrior. Humans – wanderers and potters – somehow settled yet never settling; the coming of rice; the first chants of the new religion that named the namelessness that had existed before. The coming of the nobles.

The tireless passage of the seasons, to which I bore witness. Watcher. Guardian. Keeper.

Immovable.

With undying expectation, I watched the days blur into nights and months, and finally even years: a conversation triggered by swords and the fate of swords. Yet when it came, it was accompanied by an unexpected twist – the trigger was a single soul; a mere whelp. The conversation carried with it a taste of melt-water. Foolishly, I was surprised.

Wise though I am, I still know nothing at all.

I was able to learn one thing, however: spring _was_ finally coming.

Which begs the question, can the immovable be moved?

That day, I dropped my third branch.

**FIN.**


	2. For Me to Decide

**Setting:** Post-Manga Canon**  
Rating: K  
Pre-requisites:** Chapter 410.**  
Characters: **Sesshoumaru & Kagura**  
Genre:** Angst  
**Author's Note:**  
1. This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Rose" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.  
2. The story I refer to of the samurai is a real tale. _Kerria japonica_ is also known (among other names) as the Kerria Rose but, although a member of the rose family, it's not a true rose (which is Genus _Rosa_). It has symbolic connections to poverty and is popularly (but inaccurately) believed to be seedless. It's believed to be spiritually and emotionally, rather than materially, enriching.

**Summary: **Sesshoumaru has a decision to make.

* * *

**For Me to Decide**

Warmth trailed across sensitive skin, an echo of the day's earlier heat. Grass murmured in a breeze that was both restless and gentle. In the distance, a pale bird startled from the shadows of the forest, rising into the sky to vanish like white smoke amongst the clouds.

In his hand, the Kerria rose shimmered like gold, as if reluctant to let go of its tryst with the light of the western sun.

What a sterile thing.

His gaze shifted from witnessing this futile struggle. The unbidden memory of an old tale drifted through his thoughts, the samurai asking the serving girl for a grass raincoat only to be offended by the polite offer of a Kerria rose instead; his pathetic ignorance had prevented him from recognising this poetic symbol of poverty, yet the fateful meeting with a woman that would have normally been beneath his notice had birthed in that proud warrior a new resolve – and thus a great poet was born.

Understanding why such thoughts lingered now in his mind was a simple matter.

Without a sword that was capable of defeating the endless regeneration of that vile hanyou, victory would have been impossible.

Without the creation of that eerie technique, the dark path that cast an enemy into the next world, such a sword would never have been able to manifest in this world. Even so, the technique had still been required for final victory – despite the presence of the sword it had helped birth.

And that dark technique itself would never have been born if it hadn't been for a fateful meeting of his own.

He turned on his heel and walked away, the richly coloured petals tumbling through his fingers like the scattering of golden coins.

She, like this flower, had never been a rose.

FIN.


	3. Stepping into the Light

**Setting:** Post-Manga Canon**.  
Rating: K**  
**Related Chapters:** Chapter 456, Chapter 558.  
**Characters:** Kagome.**  
Genre:** Drama  
**Author's Note:** This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Silk" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.

**Summary:** Upon returning forever to Inuyasha's world, Kagome finds herself with one unexpected but very important duty to perform.

* * *

**Stepping into the Light**

For the three years she had lived in her own world, she had believed many things – that Miroku and Sango would get married and have children; that Kohaku would heal enough to find his path in life; that the bond forming between Inuyasha and his brother would not break despite its infant fragility. That Inuyasha would wait for her.

She hadn't expected a broken bowstring.

Somehow, just as Inuyasha had been pushed through the well to his own time by her battered emotions, her bow had gone with him. He had been left alone to guard the well and the bow for three years, despite the fact neither seemed to work anymore. Kaede had speculated that such emotional flux had shattered a bowstring that was deeply connected to Kagome's heart. Now she was receiving formal training Kagome had suggested a strong hemp replacement. Kaede had disapproved; the original string had been made from silk, and that, Kaede believed, was the most fitting replacement for this unique bow.

And so Kagome was here, once more climbing Mount Azusa's steps, watching the mist as it shaped itself according to the deepest insecurities of her heart. What, she wondered, would her test be this time?

She had no fear that her feelings for Kikyou would be tested again; she and her predecessor had long ago made peace. She had faced her greatest fear in the belly of the jewel's dark aura, and although traumatised by it for three years, Kagome was confident that this issue would also not be exploitable. Her steps slowed. Was there anything left that could taint her heart with enough uncertainty that she would be prevented from obtaining the silken string she sought?

Ahead of her, the mist coalesced, taking shape. Kagome paused, waiting for what she knew must come.

'You again, huh?' the formless guardian of the Azusa shrine lowered its sleeves, revealing its face.

Revealing nothing at all.

Kagome stared. 'Wh-what's the meaning of this?' she whispered, uncomprehending. For a face that mirrored her most hidden heart to reflect nothing at all, as if empty… Kagome closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Reopening them, she stared at the spectral face. Like a breeze rippling across the surface of a pond, the features shivered, briefly taking form.

Kikyou.

'No,' Kagome objected. 'Nothing lingers between Kikyou and me. Nothing you could use.'

It was then that she realised the face hadn't settled into Kikyou's features, it was moving on, morphing.

Hitomiko.

Unsettled, Kagome watched as the expression slid back into its unformed state, the body morphing instead. Recognition escaped her as a soft gasp. The excessively long hakama, the old-fashioned armour, the flowing black hair; a face lost in enigmatic shadow…

_Midoriko._

At first, it didn't make any sense. Three powerful miko, separated by time and bound by the fate of the Shikon no Tama – Hitomiko, a powerful miko brought low by Naraku's dark schemes, yet still able fight him off long enough to teach Kagome something valuable about herself and her abilities; Kikyou, guardian of the jewel and a miko without peer… except for Midoriko herself, half the soul of the Shikon no Tama; a miko of unrivalled fame and power.

Again, mist swirled into nothing before repeating the cycle and Kagome's head bowed slightly as she understood the guardian's game. 'That nothing-face,' she told the spirit, lifting her head decisively, 'It's not me anymore. Maybe it never was.' Calmly she stepped forward. For one moment, the featureless expression mirrored her own before dissipating into the wind, leaving the way ahead clear for her to complete her journey.

It had bothered her, coming to her training so late, playing the same catch-up game she'd played at school when Naraku had still lived. At first, it had felt like she'd always be one step behind, forever lost in the shadows cast by greater, better trained, miko than she could ever be. But Naraku was gone now; the jewel that had bound them all was no more. The path she walked was her own, and it had never been – would never be – as lonely as the path walked by these three miko that had touched her life. It was the difference between them and her, the difference that made the path she walked unique... but not inferior. The last of the mist dissolved, leaving behind only the solid weight of a silk bowstring… and a sunlight that was strong enough to chase the last of the shadows away.

FIN


	4. Reason to Live

**Setting:** Manga Canon**  
Rating: T  
Characters:** Kouga**  
Genre:** Angst/Family  
**Author's Note:**  
1. This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Anniversary" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.  
2. Since it's an anniversary special, I've decided to quite shamelessly throw in one, single nod to the anime as well.

**Summary:** Three years after Naraku's death, Kouga reminisces about the future of his tribe, the revenge he was given, and the woman he's lost.

* * *

**Reason to Live**

Sometimes, it didn't feel like that bastard was truly dead.

He paused to flick his hair out of his face, squinting at the chaos around him: torn earth, an ancient ridge reduced to worthless rubble, the scent of blood hanging in the air, guts strewn across the ravaged soil.

More deaths the wolf-youkai tribe could ill afford.

A soft growl rumbled through his chest, not quite making it to his throat. These days, he didn't have the luxury of anger – he simply had to keep hunting, had to stay focused on the truth that young boy had so painfully revealed, the need – no, responsibility – to protect his people.

What was left of them, anyway.

He lifted his head a little higher, nose sifting the wind for the scents of the murderers; just the latest in a long line. The wind shifted gently, teasingly stealing away any trail that he might have used.

After the defeat of Naraku and the jewel, that dog and his friends had passed by to at least let him know the dead of his tribe could finally rest in peace. Kagome had not been with them, vanished from his life – their lives – as abruptly as she had entered, apparently more bound to the jewel than any of them. There had been a strangely bittersweet tolerance for the situation in the hanyou's scent.

Well, if Dog-shit could live with it, so could he.

At least, that's what he had told himself at the time - before he had realised that Naraku's death, the jewel's destruction, Kagome's disappearance, wasn't the end of it. Naraku's first strike against him had destroyed the warriors of the Northern Den, and with that loss, the clan had collapsed. Later, the Southern Den had been reduced to a tribe of inexperienced youngsters, and the Western Den, limited to the elderly and the very young, had finally been destroyed, only a single boy and his even younger brother surviving. While he had been obsessed with avenging the dead, he'd forgotten to protect the living. By the time he had lost his shards to Naraku and returned to gather his people, almost nothing of their once glorious tribe had remained.

Naraku's legacy, the bitter truth that was laced into the air every time it stirred; the origins of his tribe's decline in fortunes had begun with a single swipe of a fan. The wind that had once been an ally of his nose no longer felt quite so friendly, even now, years after that bitch's death. As long as the wind still blew, he'd never forget.

But that wasn't true, either, was it? Would Naraku ever have taken an interest in his tribe if he hadn't felt the need to use jewel shards to claim clan leadership? Was the ultimate fate of the tribe, as Kai had once accused, his fault alone?

Three years on, and Kouga still couldn't fully answer that question. He only knew that he, his tribe, was trapped in the moment of Naraku's death. Vengeance gained should have allowed them to move on – but the bastard had left too much chaos behind. The mountains were rife with the many thousands of youkai that had escaped the destruction of Mount Hakurei. It would be years before the balance was restored to the land.

His tribe weren't the only ones so reduced. Although he knew the hanyou and his monk-friend were still hunting the youkai, they did so alone. They had lost Kagome to whatever strange fate had bound her, and they had lost the youkai exterminator as well - to motherhood, of all things. The boy, her brother, was pulling his weight, but it wasn't quite the same: the last of the slayers was still only an apprentice, wandering the countryside trying to obtain the knowledge his ancestors could no longer teach him. Kouga remained dubious about Naraku's former puppet – there were some very strange rumours circulating about that boy's training. It wasn't any of his business, however. He had more important concerns.

For three years, it hadn't felt like his tribe was living at all. It felt like they were simply surviving.

Kouga shook his head savagely. Revenge had been successfully obtained, so how could it feel like the bastard had actually managed to have the last laugh?

'Kouga!'

'Were you in time?'

He didn't turn to face his companions as they finally caught up to him. He didn't even answer them. What was the point? The bastards that did this were gone, and the wind was mocking his attempts to follow.

His right fist curled into a ball, a heavy, useless weight at his side. What was the point of possessing Goraishi if there was no-one to use it on?

They were whispering behind him, soft words on the edge of hearing. His fangs ground together. Did they have to be so annoying? 'Are you cowards?' he snarled. 'Just say it!'

One of them gulped. The other shifted uncomfortably. 'We just thought you should know…'

'…our sister…'

'…Kagome's back!'

'Heh,' Kouga's chin sank into his chest and his eyes closed. They were trying to cheer him up, but the silence was too loud, too tense. He could easily tell what they weren't willing to say. 'She's married Dog-shit, hasn't she?'

The silence stretched on. Kouga's left hand joined his right in a tight ball by his side. Perfection was only obtained through the measured worth of even the tiniest flaws that gave something, or someone, character. Unfortunately, Kagome's flaw had been her taste in men. Kouga lifted his head and opened his eyes, gaze drifting over the ruined bodies of his tribe-mates, and onwards to find the sky and the looming clouds. It didn't feel like it, but perhaps it was a blessing. His initial interest had been practical enough, but she had won him over with her strength of personality and her virtue. Even so, as a human, she would only ever have been accepted as his wife if she'd been able to offer the tribe something of value. With the jewel completed and vanished from this world, her ability to sense the shards was no longer of any worth to the tribe. Her formidable miko powers would be regarded more as a burden than a boon to the youkai that would have been her companions. He'd had three years to realise that making her his wife would have been a miserable fate for her - and causing her misery had never been of interest to him.

All he could hope for in this life was that the hanyou didn't screw up and make her unhappy. In the next life…

Well, maybe then things could be different.

He glanced over his shoulder. They were _still_ nervous. 'What else?' he demanded, realising the bad news hadn't ended yet.

'Well…'

'That dog's been sniffing around again.'

Kouga's tongue clicked in annoyance. Dog territories were usually in the south and west, but one had decided to travel east some years back. He was probably an outcast of some kind – Kouga couldn't think of any other reason for him to still be hanging around this place. He hadn't even tried to claim any territory off the resident youkai, which made his true purpose for being here a mystery. There had been rumours that he'd been searching for something which had brought him into conflict with Naraku, but that didn't necessarily mean anything – Naraku had come into conflict with everyone.

However, rumours that the dog had some kind of personal interest in the apprentice slayer's training were odd enough to make Kouga wonder.

'As long as all that bastard does is sniff,' he replied dismissively. 'I don't have time…'

The explosion that drowned out his words rocked the very earth he was standing on. There was a roar as the collapsed ridge shattered further.

'What the…!'

'Kouga!'

'Come on!' Kouga broke into a run that his companions were hard-pressed to keep up with. Even without the shards, Kouga had a talent for speed.

The wind had finally shifted in his favour. He could smell the battle taking place in the valley beyond a distant ridge. He could smell the blood and the youki, the stench of shouki in the air, and the scent of the bastards that had murdered his companions.

He could smell wolves.

He had no intention of allowing another wolf to be slain. He would be damned to hell before he allowed another soul of his people to be lost to the other world while the living tribe withered away into memory. This time, he'd arrive on time. This time, he'd save his kin. This time, those murdering bastards would die.

The fight was over before he could arrive. He could tell it as he pushed his tiring legs beyond their natural endurance, as he forced more air into his burning lungs for that last surge that would allow him to crest the ridge and dive for the throats of his enemies. He knew that before he skidded to a stop, surrounded by a cloud of dust and shouki so thick he couldn't see the cliff edge that was a mere two feet from his toes.

But this was his territory, and he could navigate these mountain paths blind if he had to. Even as the smog cleared, he was already facing the direction he needed to charge in to reach his target. Just as soon as his prey became visible, he'd kill them. He'd avenge the loss of yet more members of his tribe. He wouldn't rest until every single member of the living tribe was as safe as the dead had become on the day that Naraku had been defeated. He was, after all, now a master at picking up the pieces of his tribe.

He just wished he could stop them from shattering in the first place.

The scene of devastation that met his finally cleared gaze was both expected and unexpected. There was blood, guts, torn earth and ravaged trees, the familiar aftermath of battle that he had begun to see even in his sleep. And yet what lay battered and torn, ground into the earth with the right to live forever stolen away, was not what he had feared to find.

As grey as avenging spirits, the wolves stood tall, strong and proud, bloodied muzzles lifted and quivering with expectation. At their feet, the murderers lay vanquished.

As if on some unspoken command, they surged forward, racing with the grace and strength of the mountain-born to vanish into the trees beyond, and it was only well-honed instinct that made Kouga lift his eyes towards the sky.

For one brief moment, as he squinted against the sun that had broken through the clouds, he thought he could see the form of a wolf-youkai. Shadowed, undefined, the figure hung there, poised for only a second before sinking into the depths of the forest, vanishing from his gaze and leaving only the scent of a woman behind.

He didn't immediately recognise the scent, and he couldn't think of any woman of his tribe who possessed the strength to defeat the enemy that had led him on such a chase for the past several days. Even as his own companions finally reached his side, he was launching himself off the cliff, and giving chase to hers.

He didn't know what he'd do once he caught up with her, but he'd worry about that when he found her. All he knew was that there was at least one female left that was capable of protecting the tribe and avenging the dead. Even if she was the only one, that meant hope for his people and their future hadn't yet died completely – the first hope in three years that there was life after Naraku, still life after Kagome.

The first hope that there was a chance for life at all.

**FIN.**


	5. Nightmare

**Setting:** Original Anime.**  
Rating: T  
Pre-requisites:** Episode 114.**  
Characters:** Miroku/Sango.**  
Genre:** Humour/Romance  
**Warnings:** Fluff, lecherous thoughts, lustful intentions, shameless innuendo.**  
Author's Note:** This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Close" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.

**Summary:** Miroku thought he knew what it was to be frustrated, but that was before he encountered Mount Hakurei.

* * *

**Nightmare**

Through the swirling fog, it hovered before his eyes like a mirage – no matter how he tried to close in, it was always that one step further away; enticing him, tormenting him. Untouchable.

He couldn't take his eyes off it: the gentle sway; the way the obi's dangling strands framed the graceful curves with licentious, passionate red…

The ripple of muscle underneath the skin-tight cloth, partially obscured behind a coral-pink curtain – like some ancient, highborn temptress hiding behind her sleeves in a steamy Heian romance.

So very, very close…

Just two feet…

_Begging_ him.

The barrier crackled. His hand jerked back to tightly grip the only staff public decency allowed him to hold onto, as another wave of nausea surged through him.

Thanks to this day, he now believed it possible for a monk to experience sublime purity and hate every moment of it.

Forcing his suffering body back into motion, he once more fell into step behind her. Her suspicion over his odd behaviour was growing with each passing moment. He could see her, once more glancing back towards him, dark eyes gloriously shaded by long lashes. He was transfixed by the way her ponytail was displaced by the motion to expose the soft, supple skin of her neck, the way that black uniform tightened across her shoulder-blades and down her spine to those delectable curves now in profile as her upper body turned slightly towards him.

Merciful Buddha! This woman didn't even know what she was doing to him!

The thought of what she _could_ do to him – if she ever actively tried – was very nearly enough to drive the monk to his knees, his stomach heaving violently.

Miroku was no longer in any doubt at all: Mount Hakurei wasn't salvation.

It was hell.

FIN.


	6. Incessant

**Setting:** Post-Manga Canon.**  
Rating: K+**  
**Pre-requisites:** None.**  
Characters: **Sesshoumaru & Inuyasha**.  
Genre:** Humour/Family  
**Author's Note: **This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Bark" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.

**Summary:** Four months after Naraku's death, and while some things have changed… some things haven't.

* * *

**Incessant**

A true warrior reacted within the space of seven breaths.

'Dammit, Miroku, a husband should know better.'

This was _not_ why Inuyasha failed to draw even one.

'Considering my innocence…'

'Keh,' his brother muttered. 'Monk, you don't know the meaning of the word.'

Perhaps he expected too much.

'Inuyasha-sama, perhaps it's as Shippou said?'

Three days ago, Inuyasha had complained about the monk's desire to enter a village in his search for his latest youkai prey. Somehow, Sesshoumaru's decision to walk away from it into the wilderness had resolved the fight because now, even three days later, his brother was still nearby.

'Stay out of this, kid.'

It appeared the hanyou had resorted to growling. Still, it was none of his business; travelling in such close proximity was coincidence. It was as simple as that.

'Given your sister's state, how can you defend him?'

Two days ago, Inuyasha had kicked Jaken clean across a meadow. Those flowers were Rin's favourite, but his memories had been ruined by Jaken's flight experiment and he had missed the cause of the fight. Having no intention of revealing his ignorance, he had continued on as if nothing had happened.

'"State", you say?' Myouga commented dryly. 'Don't you mean "pregnancy"?'

Yesterday, Inuyasha had fought with Kohaku over the best route through the mountains. Hearing them decide to fly, Sesshoumaru had wondered at the uselessness of Inuyasha's nose. Couldn't he smell the approaching storm?

'What else would I mean? Quit being stupid, old man.'

A day later, Inuyasha still hadn't flown anywhere. He remained within sight, smell, and - unfortunately - _sound_ of the daiyoukai.

'Who's being stupid, Inuyasha,' Shippou snapped. 'You've forgotten you're still holding my tail!'

They absolutely were _not_ travelling together.

'Heh,' the angry hanyou retorted. 'I haven't forgotten.'

He hadn't thought it possible for Inuyasha to become any more intolerable until proven wrong when the fox kit unwisely revealed a recent occurrence between the monk and an ardent, unmarried woman. The monk appeared to be blameless, but Inuyasha's temper had finally snapped.

'Allowing yourself to be left alone with a woman like that…' Inuyasha continued. 'How could you, Miroku?'

For four months, Inuyasha's mood had been volatile, ever since he had returned from the meidou without his woman. Sesshoumaru had expected something to give eventually – he had simply assumed the first to lose patience would be the monk, that misbegotten flea, or even the fox kit.

'Are you stu—?'

It was only when he felt the solid impact of his fist against Inuyasha's jaw that he realised he had again miscalculated.

'What the hell…?' the hanyou snarled from the dirt.

'Little brother,' he stated, feeling his eyes narrow with his impatience. 'Your bark is incessant.'

'Huh?' Inuyasha glared back at him. 'Just for something like that—'

'Be silent.'

Sesshoumaru turned on his heel and continued walking. Behind him, there was no movement. No comment.

Blessed.

Peaceful.

Silence.

'Keh.'

_Damn._


	7. Sentinel

**Setting:** Manga Canon, set during the 3-year hiatus of Chapter 558.**  
Rating: K+  
Based on: **Chapters 115, 494, 558.**  
Characters: **Inuyasha/Kagome**.  
Genre: **Angst/Romance.**  
Author's Note: **This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Return" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.

**Summary: **Miroku and Sango may have been able to settle down immediately after Naraku's death, but Inuyasha hasn't been quite so lucky.

**

* * *

  
**

**Sentinel**

It was there in the sky, a scent fainter than a wisp of cloud. It was a vision that lingered in shadow, more impossible to see than a shard of dappled light in deep forest. It was a feather-light caress, an intangible echo borne on the wings of the softest breeze.

It was a memory so powerful that it had saturated the very earth on which he walked, footprints engraved not in the mud of the wooded trail he so faithfully travelled, but in the deepest well of his heart. The only proof that his memory had not been a dream, that she had ever existed, was revealed as a solid weight around his neck: the last thread of attachment to a world locked shut.

'_If Kagome was in Kikyou's place, and had to give up her life… I'd want her to go to the world beyond the well and live there in peace.'_

He'd gotten his wish.

If it seemed as though the retreat of night-time shadows from each dawn's light swept across the mountain ridges the way black hair billowed in the wind, it didn't matter. If it appeared that Goshinboku's leaves, dancing in autumnal eddies, sounded like a softly-whispered voice, he could live with it. If he was forced to travel so far away he couldn't physically honour his tryst, then he simply left behind his soul, an everlasting sentinel that awaited her return to a world she had not been born to and which he did not call home.

After all, he'd gotten his wish.

And, on the day a scent more compelling than even the blossoming heralds of spring washed across the village, he would not question his response.

This world may not have been her home to return to, but her heart was his.

**FIN**


	8. Windless

**Setting:** Manga Canon**  
Rating: K  
Referrals: **Chapters 407, 409, 464.  
**Characters: **Sesshoumaru & Inuyasha  
**Genre: **Family  
**Author's Note:** This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Away" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.

**Summary:** As Kikyou dies, Sesshoumaru teeters on the edge of an awareness he doesn't fully understand.

* * *

**Windless**

It wasn't a light that faded; it was a flood across the entire sky. Weeping tears of fire, the sun was leaving blood in its wake.

Briefly, there was a shift in the breeze… and then nothing. The windless shroud that followed the bloody sun was broken only by birdsong, as if the creature was utterly devoid of any knowledge of the tilt of a suddenly unbalanced world.

Unless it possessed too much - its cry was a plaintive chant: _too late, too late, too late_.

'_You don't actually have compassion for Kagura, do you?'_

Was his brother too far away to hear, to feel the loss of the wind?

'_Ridiculous.'_

Why did he even bother seeking awareness of a hanyou's worthless heart when there was no importance to even his own?

'_If that's the case, why sacrifice your sword?'_

The question hung in the air, as empty as a wind-chime in a windless room.

'_She has truly died in vain.'_

He closed his eyes.

'_Somehow, it seems that where there was a lacking in your heart, something has been born from it.'_

He closed his heart.

It had been so easy once.

Surely, it still was?

**FIN.**


	9. Unique

**Setting:** Manga canon, set in the aftermath of Chapter 50, foreshadowing Chapters 115 and 156**  
****  
Rating: PG****  
Characters: **Kagome and Shippou, Inuyasha/Kagome implied**  
****Genre:** General**  
Author's Note: **This was inspired by a 2009 challenge prompt called "Light" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.

**Summary:** The resurrection of Kikyou gives Kagome a little more insight into the nature of the hanyou soul.

* * *

**Unique**

'Kagome, are you alright?'

Wondering what it would take to make him stop asking that question, Kagome smiled brightly. The kitsune didn't look convinced. 'You look unhappy, Kagome.'

'_So do you,'_ she glanced at his small hands, clenching her shoulder so tightly. 'I'm sorry, Shippou-chan. Please don't worry.'

Shippou frowned. 'Is it what I said, that Kikyou once asked Inuyasha to become human for her?'

Her eyes widened at the implications. Unsettled, she looked away. 'No,' she hastily answered. 'That's not it.'

It was a half-truth, but what truly bothered her was something much more fundamental. She glanced at Shippou. Perhaps a youkai could help with this dilemma – if only such heavy thoughts could be explained in a manner light enough for a child.

'It surprised me that Hiten and Manten were brothers,' she confessed.

'Eh?' Shippou looked speechless. She could see the boy's mind feverishly working to connect this question to Kikyou. She could see him fail.

'They looked like different kinds of youkai,' she clarified. 'That's all.'

Shippou stared at her, but it took only a moment for understanding to dawn in his leaf-green eyes. 'They were.'

'Eh?' Now it was her turn to be confused.

He leapt down from her shoulder and straightened to his full, tiny height. 'Coming from your strange land, you probably don't know it,' he lectured. 'A youkai can only have one nature. If its parents have different natures, it can't have half a nature – or two.'

Kagome frowned. 'How can that be? Inuyasha is…'

Shippou folded his arms across his chest and looked away. 'Humans can only be human and youkai can only be youkai. Hanyou are both – and so neither. That's why they're different.'

Her head spun sluggishly. To think she had been worried the _child_ wouldn't understand…

'Kagome, you've seen his human heart, haven't you?' Shippou seemed to realise she was struggling.

'Well, yes…' she trailed off in sudden realisation. Youkai of different types couldn't produce hybrid offspring because it would split their souls to do so. The child had to inherit only one, or its own soul would be torn apart by a war within its own heart.

'Inuyasha's unique,' she whispered softly, and Shippou nodded, clearly pleased she understood.

She hadn't fully appreciated how lonely even the concept of being hanyou could be. How… _homeless_. She hadn't understood how this Shikon no Tama could make Inuyasha a full youkai, yet Kikyou had clearly thought it possible for him to become a full human. Now she understood that it had to be possible – she had seen Inuyasha's human heart for herself during the night of the new moon. Did that mean a hanyou wasn't so much a half-breed as a person with two hearts bound within one soul? Were those hearts at war?

Did that mean a hanyou who could manifest his human heart could also manifest his youkai heart?

Her eyes drifted towards the starless sky.

'_Inuyasha…'_

She couldn't help but wonder what his youkai heart was like.

**FIN.**


	10. Forever the Student

**Setting:** Manga canon, Chapter 370**  
Characters: **Hakudoushi**  
Rating: K+****  
Genre:** Angst  
**Warnings:** Character death.

**Author's Note:** This was inspired by a challenge prompt called "New" in the Inu Yasha Themes Livejournal community.

**Summary:** Hakudoushi had thought he had achieved mastery in the art of cunning. He was wrong.

* * *

**Forever the Student**

Realisation knifed through his brain with the strength of new steel, coating his throat with the after-taste of bile.

Strange, how his love of violence could vanish like so much smoke dispelled on the wind – an ephemeral whimsy of strength revealed for what it was. He had thought himself so clever, his plan so carefully crafted. So secret.

It had been so simple. Naraku had been so determined for that traitorous bitch to perform one last task before he ended her miserable existence. He had thought to surpass that master of cunning. He'd actually thought he had.

A desire for power crumpled around him like dying blossoms. One gust of wind – that's all it took to reduce his plans to dust, to grant the insight that came with his last breath, through the illusions that were shattering with the fragility of a barrier he had unshakeably, foolishly trusted.

To obtain the power he had craved, he had agreed to Naraku's plan without question. So intent upon watching her life fading away before his eyes, her freedom futilely ensnared amongst the unyielding strands of Naraku's cunning, he had utterly failed to see the reality. He had failed to see the spider's dance, the true pattern of the web being spun.

Call it arrogance, ignorance. Call it hope. It no longer mattered. He had believed Kagura's final duty for Naraku was to free Goryoumaru.

But as the power of Tessaiga smashed through his body, as the chains of this life broke away, freeing him from the burdens of this world and opening the kazaana's gateway to the trials of the next, he could see the truth in all its stark clarity.

He hadn't been the bait for trapping Kagura.

Kagura had been the bait for trapping him.

**FIN.**


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